Too Far Gone
by Pomegranate-Neko
Summary: G1. His body may have been undamaged, but his mind would never be the same. Between hearing voices and seeing ghosts of his comrades, Bumblebee may be too far gone to be saved. Or are his visions something more?
1. Chapter 1

The smell of scorched, melting metal lingered in the thick air as the two mechs made their way through the rubble. The larger one would lift the heavy wreckage and peer under, only to toss it back down, their spirit falling with the tarnished debris. The other, slimmer mech called out desperate _anybody out there_'s to the barren wasteland. After cycles of searching, the smaller of the two turned to his companion.

"Hound, I don't think anyone's here..."

"Keep looking." The green mech replied quickly, tossing a large piece of scrap metal over his shoulder. "Someone's gotta be left."

The two worked in silence, save for the distraught cries of the slighter Autobot. Then, as they came to the outskirts of the ruined electricity plant, Hound stopped.

"Blue," Hound called to his comrade, "This cave…isn't this…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence, as the smaller 'bot had already dashed over to him. "Yes," Bluestreak whispered, staring at the rocks that had collapsed on themselves, sealing the entrance to a small cave they had seen earlier. "Bumblebee and Cliffjumper," He gave the larger mech a distressed look, "they were in there, weren't they?"

The green jeep was already digging through the boulders, and the Datsun quickly joined in. Finally, the two mechs had cleared an opening small enough for at the smaller one's head to fit through.

"Cliffjumper? Bumblebee?" Bluestreak called into the darkness. He tried again, louder and more desperate, "_Cliffjumper_? _Bumblebee_? _Anyone_? "

In reply there was a small sound, barley picked up by their audios. Quickly, the two mechs dug out a larger opening. Bluestreak squeezed in, followed by the bulkier Hound. Both mechs turned on their headlights and scanned the area.

"Cliffjumper? Bumblebee?" Bluestreak tried again. Again, they heard the noise; a quiet, harmonic-sounding hum. Without exchanging a word, the two headed into the cave.

Stalactites and stalagmites jutted from the ceiling and floor, and large boulders littered the ground, some splitting into several sharp pieces. Avoiding the jagged sediment, the two neared the center of the cavern. The humming grew louder and their lights picked up a small silhouette. The two immediately recognized the model.

"Bumblebee! Or is it Cliffjumper? You know, I can never really tell with you two, what with you guys sharing a mold and everything." The young gunner babbled, walking forward. Then, abruptly, he stopped. Confused, Hound marched over to his companion, and understood exactly why the other has paused.

Bumblebee sat on the rocky ground of the cavern, his armor battered but still intact. His blue optics glowed dimly as he stroked the object sitting in his lap. His vocalizer was producing a humming sound to the tune of a Cybertronian nursery rhyme, completely oblivious to his comrades just a few meters away.

"Bumblebee?" Hound took a cautious step forward. Bumblebee turned to look at him.

He smiled happily and said, "Oh look, our friends came to rescue us. Didn't I tell you they would?" He directed the question to the object he was cradling. "But you didn't believe me, did you? But they're here now, see?" He shifted his body and let his friends' headlights illuminate the object.

In his lap was the disembodied head of Cliffjumper.

* * *

I hope that was ok. I checked it numerous times for spelling and grammar errors, but I usually miss a few dispite my best efforts.


	2. Chapter 2

Bluestreak made a strangled noise, but Hound didn't turn to look. His eyes were focused of the head of his companion, cradled lovingly in Bumblebee's lap. The yellow Autobot looked at his two comrades for a moment, a smile still spread across his faceplate.

"That's not a nice thing to say," the minibot said suddenly, looking down at Cliffjumper's disembodied head, "it probably took them a while to get in here. There are rocks at the entrance, remember?" He then sighed, and looked at the other two apologetically. "I'm sorry. You know how Cliffjumper gets sometimes. No patience." He shook his head, but his tone was playful.

Bluestreak, for once, struggled to find his voice. His mouth would open, as if to say something, but then quickly shut again. Finally, he made a tiny step forward. "Bumblebee…" his voice was quiet, "Bumblebee, are you…ok?"

The yellow bot looked at him as if the other has just asked who the leader of the Autobot army was. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I mean, my armor is a little beat up, but, come on, we _were_ just in a battle." He looked at the skull in his lap, "Cliffjumper is a bit worse, I think, eh Buddy?" He grinned at the head. Then, as if the lifeless form had answered, he added, "Oh, stop being too proud and just admit you're hurt!"

"Bumblebee…" The young gunner's CPU was spinning out of control as Bumblebee's words registered. Had the young bot gone berserk? "That's not…Cliffjumper isn't…Nobody answered…Cliffjumper's dead. Can't you tell?"

Bumblebee's optics narrowed suddenly, glaring daggers into Bluestreak's armor. "Shut up. That's not even funny, Bluestreak. Don't talk like that. You're so mean sometimes!" He huffed and turned away. "If Cliffjumper died, wouldn't you be sorry." He added under his breath.

Hound finally snapped out of his daze and clicked on his comm. link. His voice shook as he called for the Autobots' medical officer. "Ratchet, we found Bumblebee. I think something's wrong. Please hurry."

* * *

Ratchet watched as Bumblebee's body stirred, before settling back into a deep recharge. When he has arrived at the coordinates Hound had sent him, he was...disturbed, to say the least. Of course, it was not uncommon for soldiers to snap; after all, they were not built for war. Still, the image of Bumblebee cradling the head of his friend and smiling up at him when he entered the cave sent shivers down his form. "_So nice of you to join us_." Bumblebee has said, "_It's a party in here now, huh, 'Jumper?"_ Then he laughed, grinned at the skull, and hummed a Cybertronian nursery rhyme. Ratchet shook his head quickly, as if to rid himself of the memories.

"Prognosis?" Optimus' deep voice startled the medic, and he quickly turned to face his leader.

"I don't know," he admitted, "I've seen bots go mad in times like these, and each one handles it differently. Some can turn out pretty fine, but others get their CPU so fried it'll never go back." He looked at the yellow minibot resting on the berth, hoping his fate would not be like those mechs.

"He was unconscious when you brought him in," Optimus stated, almost asking a question.

"He wouldn't come otherwise." The white mech explained, "He put up a fight if anyone came near him: screaming and cursing at us. I never expected something like that to come out of Bumblebee's mouth." He paused, and looked up at his leader, "And he wouldn't let go of Cliffjumper."

Optimus let out a battle-weary sigh. "Cliffjumper." He repeated. "He was a good mech, a great fighter." Another sigh. "He was so young, too. He will be missed greatly. I suppose Bumblebee was distraught to see his friend dead. I wouldn't blame him for trying to be near him in those last moments."

"Bumblebee thought he was still alive."

Optimus threw Ratchet a concerned look. Ratchet nodded sadly and explained the situation. "He has been talking to Cliffjumper's head as if he was carrying on a conversation in the rec. room. It was…disturbing, to say the least."

"But mechs can recover from this?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a comforting statement. "Sometimes symptoms can disappear, can't they?"

"Well, yes. But other times, it can't be fixed…"

"And some mechs can live with it." the leader continued, "Red Alert. He lives with his…glitch. He can function almost normally." It was hard to tell if the Commander of the Autobots was speaking to Ratchet or trying to convince himself. It was no secret that Bumblebee was one of his favorite soldiers.

"We can try our hardest to make sure Bumblebee recovers as best he can." Ratchet assured Prime, "It may take some time, but we can do it." He put his hand on his companion's shoulder and gave him a small, reassuring smile.

A groan from the other end of the med bay made the two old mechs turn. Bumblebee was slowly sitting up, holding his head. He grimaced, then powered on his optics.

"Oh, hello." The minibot chirped.

"Hey, kid." Ratchet smiled and walked over to the younger bot. "How are you feeling?"

"Quite well," The yellow mech replied. "My head kinda hurts, though." He rubbed his temple, and smiled sheepishly.

As much as Ratchet wanted to say 'that's because we had to hit you to get to you here', he simply replied, "I'll get you something for that." and went off to find some pain killers.

Optimus and Bumblebee looked at each other for several long moments before the Commander was able to find his words.

"You gave us a quite a scare, Bumblebee," Prime's deep baritone voice said softly, "We didn't know what happened to you after the battle."

"I know," replied the Volkswagen, "I'm sorry. We were trapped in there when the rocks fell in, but I knew someone would come and save us." Optimus almost cringed as he heard the yellow mech say 'us'.

"Bumblebee, you have to understand…Cliffjumper didn't make-"

"Speak of the devil!" Bumblebee interrupted his leader, gazing over to the door of the med bay. "Hi! You're looking better."

Optimus, not hearing the door open or anyone come in, turned around. Nobody was there. "Bumblebee…?"

"How did you wake up before me?" the minibot continued, not hearing his leader's question. "But I guess you're tougher than I am. Still, I thought your injuries were worse...oh well, we're both up now!" The bot laughed lightly.

"Bumblebee, who are you talking to?" The semi-truck asked, concerned.

Bumblebee stared at his leader incredulously. "Cliffjumper, of course. Do you see anyone else in the room?" He laughed again, and looked back to the doorway. "I don't know what up with him; he was looking right at you!"

Optimus took a step back involuntarily. Ratchet had been right when he called this behavior 'disturbing'. He was grateful that the Autobot medic chose this moment to return.

"Ratchet, can I leave now?" the minibot asked after taking the meds.

The white Autobot gave the other a firm look. "No,"

"But why not? Cliffjumper left." He pointed to the empty doorway, as if to emphasize his point.

"Bumblebee," Ratchet said sternly, "Cliffjumper is dead. He didn't make it after the cave in. There's nobody over there." He motioned towards the doorway.

Bumblebee's eyes narrowed into slits. "Shut up. I don't know what you bots are trying to pull, but it's not funny." He paused, still angry, and turned to the doorway. After a moment, he declared, "Exactly. You wouldn't want that, would you?" He huffed and turned his head away from the medic and his leader.

"Bumblebee," Optimus pleaded, "we're just going to keep you for a little while longer, ok?"

The yellow minibot didn't turn to look as he stubbornly replied, "Cliffjumper got to leave."

Realizing he could not yet convince the young mech that his friend was no longer online, Ratchet sighed in defeat and said, "Well, we think there may be more damages - internal rather than external – and we need to keep you here for a few days. Cliffjumper," he spoke the same of the fallen Autobot with great difficulty, then continued "does not have the same problem, so he can go."

Slowly, the minibot looked back at the other mechs. "Ok," he said after a moment of thought, "ok, as long as you don't try to make those jokes anymore." with a nod to the invisible Cliffjumper in the doorway, he continued, "They're not nice."

* * *

It was approximately 2:00 am earthen time when Ratchet heard the terrified screams coming from the med bay. Without a second thought, he sprang from his recharge berth. The doors _whooshed _open, and Ratchet took a small step back.

Sitting upright on the berth, Bumblebee was shrieking at the top of his vocalizer. His hands clutched his yellows horns, and his optics were shut off. Despite that fact, however, it was apparent that the young minibot was awake. He thrashed violently about, stopping his screech only to shout a few choice, high-pitched phrases.

"Bumblebee! Bumblebee, stop!" Ratchet shook the bot lightly at first, and then more fiercely when he got no response. Pleading for the minibot to quiet down, he didn't notice that Wheeljack had rushed to his side. Franticly, the engineer pinched the cables on the back of the yellow Autobot's neck, causing him to slump into Ratchet's arms. The medic shot his friend and desperate and frightened look; one the inventor had never seen cross the other's faceplate. The med bay remained eerily quiet as they laid the bot back down.

* * *

When Bumblebee finally came to, his glanced around nervously, obviously frightened. Ratchet, who has been watching the mech for quite some time to make sure he would not freak out again, quickly walked up to him.

"Is she gone?" The young bot demanded, fear evident in his voice.

"Is who gone? What are you talking about? What _happened_ to you last night?"

"She was there," the terrified minibot answered, pointing to the door, "in the corridor. She called my name."

"Who did?" inquired the medic, the fear of the smaller bot making its way into his own core, "Who was out there?"

"I don't know," the other replied, shaking, "but she was coming to _kill_ me."

* * *

Ratchet asked Red Alert, who had been on duty all night, and the Security Director said that no, there had been nobody in that hallway, or any hallway within hearing distance from the med bay, at all that night. And certainly no femmes were here. Still, the two checked the tapes, listened to the audio of every section of the Ark, and found nobody calling out the young bots name. No femmes, or even feminine voices, were heard. Ratchet thanked the paranoid Lamborghini and returned to the med bay.

"Did you find her?" Bumblebee asked, still spooked.

"No," admitted Ratchet, "but we'll keep looking, ok?" The smaller bot nodded, happily taking his comrade's promise. The medic shook his head sadly, knowing that they would never find her, as she existed only in the poor yellow bot's head.

* * *

***

Again, sorry for any spelling or grammer mistakes. I proofread this a few times but, like I said before, I usually miss a few. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm basing Bumblebee's behavior off of a mental illness called Schizoaffective Disorder. The part about someone calling his name is something I got from reading about the experience of someone with that disorder, as individuals with this illness often have hallucinations.


	3. Chapter 3

I would like to thank everyone who has left me reviews and added this story to their alert list. I'm so glad that you have enjoyed this story so far, and I hope I can continue to please you with the upcoming chapters!

* * *

It did not take long for the news of Bumblebee's…_episode_ to reach the audios of the other mechs; After all, Bluestreak had been one of the mechs to witness the event. The story, however, twisted and bent and contorted so it was unclear who had the "true" tale. One version included Bumblebee screaming in tongues, other that it was the yellow mech who had brought the demise of their comrade Cliffjumper. Some claimed his head had turned all the way around and his body twisted into unnatural positions, like in that one movie with that crazy organic girl and the priest.

Needless to say, the soldiers were engrossed by these stories, and the brave ones went to seek out the bot, much to Bumblebee's delight and Ratchet's displeasure.

"So, 'Bee, tell me what happened?" Brawn had been one of the first to come; his loyalty to the minibot faction coupled with the verification that he was not afraid of being near a bot with a glitch drove him to meet with Bumblebee as soon as possible.

"Well," began the small bot, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully, "during the battle, Cliffjumper and I decided to go into the small cave we saw earlier, in case some Decepticreeps were hiding out. Well, something must have blasted the cave, 'cause the whole thing collapsed on itself!" he made a motion with his hands to emphasize the occurrence, "so, we were trapped in there, me and Cliffjumper. He kept saying that we were doomed and nobody was gonna find us, but I told him we would be rescued. And wouldn't you know it? Hound and Bluestreak came not soon after!" He grinned at his friend, and Brawn gave him an odd stare back.

"But what about Cliffjumper? How'd it happen?" Brawn asked. He had heard that his red friend's head had been separated from his body, but he had not been told why.

"How did…what happen?" The yellow minibot cocked his head to the side.

Brawn paused, staring at him with an incredulous look. "His…_head_." He said finally, awkwardly, "how exactly did that _happen_?"

Bumblebee stared at the larger minibot for a moment, as if he had just been asked a difficult trivia question. Then, after a long moment, he replied, "Oh, well I don't know, really. I think something hit him. Honestly, we didn't talk about it."

"Talk about it?" The three words were said almost as if they were 3 completely different sentences. An odd look morphed onto his faceplate that Bumblebee recognized from the other mechs who had visited him, but he did not fully understand what it meant.

"It never came up." He explained, staring idly at the wall, then the floor, then his hand as if his CPU couldn't decide which was most fascinating. "We did talk, though. Nothing else to do." Finally, his hand was deemed the most interesting object, and he lifted it up, staring as light reflected off his paint job.

Instinctively, Brawn leaned back from the yellow mech, as if he was infected with some sort of virus. Sure, Ratchet had warned him that Bumblebee might say some…_unusual_ things, but this, to be quite honest, frightened him. It made sense now why some of the other mechs who had come to see the small bot had skirted around the encounter, giving vague comments or completely ignoring the subject.

"Are you ok?"

The question caught Brawn by surprise. He stared at the yellow bot for a moment, mouth dropped slightly, as he tried to stop his CPU from spinning out of control.

Bumblebee repeated his question, saying the words slowly, in case his companion did not comprehend, "are you ok?"

The other bot did not comprehend. This bot, with a glitched CPU that couldn't grasp reality, was asking _him_ if _he_ was ok? It took him a long moment to find his voice, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Uh, I gotta go, though." He stood abruptly, "patrol, ya know? I, uh, I'll see you l-later, I guess?" the words spilled out of his mouth as he hastily made his way towards the door and stepped out. "Bye." He added quickly as the doors closed.

"Have fun on patrol" chirped the minibot to the closed door, waving although the other mech had already left. Then, to himself, he added, "It was nice of him to come. But why he asked about Cliffjumper, I don't know. He could have asked him himself; Brawn knows how much he loves to tell stories."

* * *

When Brawn returned to the rec. room, he was quickly swarmed by curious mechs.

"How did it go? Is he really bonkers?" asked Sideswipe, getting closer than he normally would to the tough minibot. "I bet he was. I bet he's totally lost it." A few mechs added their own ideas on how "bonkers" the yellow minibot was.

Brawn was torn between telling the other mechs to shove it up their tailpipes, or to tell them how disturbing Bumblebee really was. Eventually, he decided on a proper answer. "If you're so interested, go see him yourself. I ain't no mech's messenger boy." He glared around at the semi-circle of mechs surrounding him, and stalked off.

"I think he's right," murmured Trailbreaker, turning to the other mechs. "I mean, he's probably lonely anyway, and we all want to know about him."

The other mechs whispered amongst themselves. Would any of them dare to visit Bumblebee? After all, he had a glitch, right? Did they want to be near someone like that? Did it have to be them, specifically, to visit the bot? Surely other mechs would visit him, right?

"Well, I'd like to go," said Trailbreaker, giving the other mechs a hard look.

"I'll go, too." Added Hound, who had been standing nearby, listening to the conversation, "I haven't seen him since we got him here. I should have gone before, huh? Plus, I bet he'd love having a group see him!"

"I'd like to accompany you as well, if you don't mind."

Every Autobot except Hound jumper at the sound of the voice. "Hey, that's great, 'Raj!" exclaimed the scout, grinning at his companion.

The blue and white spy stood near the wall, but walked towards the others in an aristocratic manner. "I, too, feel guilty for not seeing him earlier. He is a teammate, after all."

"So, let's go!" smiled Trailbraker, "Anymore takers?"

The Autobots looked at one another, Trailbreaker, and then to each other again. Nobody else spoke up. The three mechs left for the medbay, and soon the remaining bots went back to their own devices, quickly forgetting about their yellow comrade.

* * *

"Hound!" cried Bumblebee, flinging his arms around the large green Jeep. "It's so nice to see you again!"

"Hey, you too, kid," Hound grinned, returning the hug. If he was nervous, it did not show. "Sorry I didn't see you earlier."

"It's ok; you're a busy mech." Replied the yellow Autobot, smiling happily. "I'm so glad you came."

"Well, who wouldn't want to see you, Bumbles?" laughed the scout, although he knew all too well who did not want to visit.

"Did you forget about me?" asked the rich voice of Mirage from the doorway. He wore a small smile, but seemed a bit edgy. The minibot either did not notice or chose not to.

"Mirage! You came to? This is great! You gotta tell me what I'm missing in Special Ops. I can't believe I've missed some missions being stuck in here!"

"I'll be sure to fill you in." replied the aristocrat, sounding a bit uneasy. He got a big grin in reply.

"Hey, Bumblebee," Trailbreaker greeted the minibot from behind the blue spy, putting on his best smile.

"Trailbreaker?" Bumblebee turned to look at the dark Autobot. Suddenly, his optics opened wide and he gripped the berth he was sitting on, voice rising in pitch as he repeated the name, "Trailbreaker? _Trailbreaker_!" he shrieked and scrambled to the back of the berth.

Startled, Hound jumped back from the screeching minibot. His optics were locked on his frantic comrade, who had pressed himself against the wall as if he hoped it would swallow him up. Behind him, he heard his blue and white friend's frightened gasp, and felt him lightly touch his arm, as if asking for protection. He did not turn to look, simply gazing at the scene which was all too familiar to him. He recalled when he, Ratchet and Bluestreak had tried to get the bot to come with them. The jaundice Bug had cried, begging them not to take him away, not to hurt him.

"Bumblebee?" Trailbreakers voice was barely heard over the howling of the young Cybertronian. "Bumblebee, what's wrong?"

"Go away!" wailed Bumblebee, "Go away! Don't touch me! Don't hurt me! _Please_!"

"I'm not going to hurt you…" said the black Autobot softly, "what's wrong?"

In reply, the Volkswagen continued to wail and cry, pleading for the Autobot not to hurt him.

It was at this moment that Ratchet sprinted into the room, demanding to know what was going on.

"He just started screaming," whispered Mirage from his place behind Hound, "he saw Trailbreaker and started screaming,"

Ratchet had turned to the shrieking minibot and put his large crimson hands on the mech's shoulders. "Calm down," he urged, "Bumblebee, you need to calm down. What's wrong?"

"Don't let him hurt me," sobbed the yellow Autobot, "please don't let him. Don't let him touch me again!"

"I never touched him," whispered Trailbreaker, his wide optics staring at the mechs.

"You should go," growled Ratchet, glancing at the three bots. When they made no movement, he barked, "_Now_!"

The Autobots scurried out of the room, Trailbreaker sprinting down the hall, Hound calling after him, and Mirage hanging onto the scout's arm. Ratchet turned back to Bumblebee, who was still wailing, and attempted to calm him down. Soon, the VW had quieted, taking in long, ragged breaths.

"Bumblebee, what was that about?" questioned the medic, "Why were you so afraid?"

The yellow bot looked up with huge blue optics and whispered, "Trailbreaker…he's the one who did it."

"Did what?"

"He's been working with the Decipticons. He planned the attack, and he planned for that cave to collapse." The young bot gasped as if a sudden revelation hit him and said, "He's the one who hurt Cliffjumper."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this one. I've been doing more reading on Schizoaffective disorder, so I hope I can make this as realsitic as possible...considering its about giant alien robots, that is! Thanks again for the reivews! Oh, and as always, I'm sorry for any grammar errors.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I'd say I've been busy but, really, I've just been lazy. Heheh...well, anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Ratchet stared at Bumblebee, mouth hanging open in a very unprofessional way. He closed it tightly, then opened it again as if he was about to say something, but it froze in that state once again.

"Ratchet? Ratchet, is something wrong?" asked Bumblebee nervously, reaching up to touch the medic's face, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm…going to go get Prime." The medic's voice was barely a whisper, and had Bumblebee not been so close, he probably wouldn't have heard him say it.

* * *

"Bumblebee, did I hear correctly? Is it true you named Trailbreaker a traitor to the Autobots?" Optimus' voice was stern as he looked at the minibot. Ratchet had scurried into his office just moments before and told the commander about Bumblebee's behavior and his accusation against Trailbreaker. The Autobot leader was, to say the least, alarmed by this news. He had raced out his door towards the medbay, Ratchet at his heels. They had quickly ushered the minibot into Prime's office, and Optimus had sat Bumblebee on a chair that was more suited for larger mechs. Ratchet stood behind Optimus, looking concerned and a little bit dazed.

"Yes, sir." Replied Bumblebee honestly, staring up at the leader with big optics wondering what in the world he could have done wrong.

"I see." Optimus fell silent for a moment, staring at the young bot before him. The minibot stared back, sinking his teeth into his lip; not enough to break skin, but enough to feel the pressure. "And how do you come to this conclusion?"

This question, for reasons even the minibot did not know, surprised Bumblebee. He gave his leader an odd look, as if he expected him to know already. He took a deep intake of air and began, "Well, Cliffjumper told me, of course."

Optimus gazed at the Beetle warily and asked, "And…when exactly did he tell you this, Bumblebee?"

"Oh, a little after the cave collapsed. I asked him, 'Cliffjumper, how do you suppose those Decepticons found out about this power plant and about this cave?' and he said, 'Well, Bumblebee, it must have been that no-good rotten traitor, Trailbreaker!'" he paused and looked at the elder mechs in front of him before continuing, "And I said, 'Trailbreaker? How do you know he's a traitor? He is simply not the type.' And Cliffjumper said, 'Because I have proof. I saw him conversing with some Decepticreeps the other day, and he told them all about this power plant.'" Signaling the end of his story, the VW sighed and looked right into Optimus' optics.

"I…Ratchet!" Optimus' words startled the medic, who had been staring slack-jawed at Bumblebee, and he immediately straightened up.

"Sir?"

"I need to speak with you for a moment." The leader looked at the minibot, who had begun wiggling around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. "Can I trust you to stay where you are for a minute, Bumblebee?"

"Sure thing, Prime!" The bug exclaimed, happy, as always, to prove the leader could trust him in any way possible.

"I knew I could." Behind his faceplate, Optimus gave the bot a small smile, and although the young one couldn't see it, he knew it was there. Then, Optimus moved towards a door leading to another, smaller room and beckoned Ratchet to follow.

"Ratchet?"

The Autobot leader didn't have to say any more. "I'm not sure if he's telling the truth, Prime." The medic began, glancing at the closed door, "I just can't tell. It's possible that he's made up some…fake memories – some bots often do – but then again, he could very well be telling us exactly what happened. What he said about Cliffjumper…I don't know what to make of that. Cliffjumper could have told him in his dying breaths, or perhaps Bumblebee's mind if just trying to think of an excuse for what happened; a scapegoat, in order to cope."

"If there anyway to tell if these events are true or just fantasy?" Optimus asked after a moment, staring seriously at the white Autobot.

"No, not really. Except, of course, investigating the accusations."

"Of course," replied the leader, as he had already been planning on such a thing. "Thank you, Ratchet. I suppose we should get Bumblebee back to the med bay."

Ratchet nodded, and opened the door. Bumblebee perked up, twisting his head to the sound of the opening door. He had not moved an inch since the two had left him.

"Thank you for waiting, Bumblebee." Optimus walked to his desk in a few, long strides. "Thank you for bringing this issue to my attention. Ratchet will take you back to the med bay, now."

"Can't I leave the med bay?" complained the yellow minibot, rising to his feet, "It's so boring!"

Ratchet gave a small smile, "Afraid not, kid. Just a little while longer, though; can you manage?"

The young one sighed, "Well, I guess." Then, as he and the white medic were about to walk out the door he turned and gave his leader a brilliant smile, "Bye, Prime! It was really nice to see you!"

* * *

Ratchet had decided that Bumblebee should stay in one of the small rooms connected to the med bay, usually reserved for long-term patients in need of numerous repairs. Bumblebee had complained, naturally, but was easily convinced. He rarely won arguments with the CMO, partly because he never wanted to do anything to upset his superior officers, and partly because he was lousy at debates.

It was there that Bumblebee heard the commotion in the corridor just outside, and the panicked voice of Trailbreaker. Curiosity piqued, the minibot leaned his helm against the metal wall.

"I don't understand, Red!" Trailbreaker exclaimed, and it sounded as though he was being yanked down the hall, "I would never compromise the Autobots, honest! How could you possibly believe otherwise?"

"I am in no position to comment," came the curt reply of the Security Officer.

"Prowl?" Trailbreaker's voice was desperate, pleading. "Come on, you don't believe it, do you?"

Prowl, who Bumblebee assumed was assisting in the detaining of the large Autobot, said nothing in reply. Bumblebee smiled to himself, a bit more relieved that the traitor was being sent to the brig. He had, in the back of his mind, been terrified that Optimus and Ratchet did not believe him. He shuddered, remembering the words Cliffjumper had used to describe this traitor. Bumblebee had trusted the mech! How many times had they chatted on patrol, sipped energon together in the rec. room, or given each other a warm greeting in the corridors? He was grateful that his friend had told him, because the next move from Trailbreaker could have _killed_ one of his comrades!

Prowl, Red Alert, and the traitor Trailbreaker had already paraded through the hallway and were out of Bumblebee's range of hearing, so he turned around to head back to his berth. Speak of the devil!

"Hey, 'Jumper!" squealed Bumblebee, looking at the red mech who was sprawled lazily across the berth. The minibot looked up at him, grinning.

"Hey, 'Bee. What did I tell ya, huh? It's about time that traitor Trailbreaker got what was comin'!" He enthusiastically punched the air to show their victory.

"It's still so hard to believe," Bumblebee admitted, sitting next to his friend on the berth, "but I suppose that was what made him a good spy, right? I mean, just look at me; nobody ever suspect the little guy!" He giggled, and so did his red counterpart.

"Yeah, the only difference is you're working for the good guys," he pointed out. "But hey, enough about that; what are you doing in here?"

"Ratchet wants me to stay in here," Bumblebee groaned, "Something about internal injuries, I think?" He sighed, but smiled at his fellow minibot, "But, hey, the Good Doctor knows what he's doing, right? I know I can trust him."

The crimson mech looked skeptical, "I don't know…it's awfully weird. I mean, I can leave, right? What makes you different?"

"That's what I said!" The yellow one exclaimed, "But they were all, 'Noo…'" he stretched the vowel out for a few moments longer than necessary, "They said I had to stay in here. Maybe my injuries were worse...On the plus side, though, this place is bigger than my own room!"

"I'd watch out if I were you," Cliffjumper warned, "Trailbreaker may not be the only traitor."

The Beetle gasped, "You don't think Ratchet is-"

"I didn't say that. But, you never know, Bumbles. It's mighty suspicious that they're keeping you here, but I can't tell yet if it's foul play or real medical stuff. I'll try and figure it out, and keep you posted."

The bug nodded, "I'm so glad you're here, Cliffjumper. Man, I was freaked for a bit when everyone was trying to convince me you were dead. What a cruel joke, huh?"

The other nodded in grim agreement, "That's what I'm talkin' about, with not trusting people, Bee. They try to mess with your head and make you believe things differently. Make sure they don't get to you, ok?"

"Don't worry, they won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Cliffjumper got up to leave. "See ya, Bee. I'll go figure some stuff out, and make sure that traitor is nice and uncomfortable." He grinned, "Get some rest, ok? Ya look like slag." And with that, he left.

Bumblebee smiled to himself, alone in the bare medical room. He could always count on Cliffjumper to be there for him at times like this. The minibot was even going to make sure there were no more traitors around. Could you ask for a better friend? No, Bumblebee decided, nobody could be better than Cliffjumper. He was thankful that his friend would never, ever leave.

* * *

Hoist slowly backed away from the door leading to Bumblebee's temporary room. Although his mask camouflaged it, his mouth was dropping as it was on hinges. His optics, as if held by a magnet, never left the metallic door. His step was uneven, and his spark had a strange, twisted, disturbed feeling. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop; he now wished he hadn't.

The medic had heard the minibot speaking through the walls of the med bay. At first, he thought the mech had company. He knew, of course, that visitors were not allowed in at this time of night and almost opened the door to tell them to get out, until he heard what Bumblebee was saying.

"_I'm so glad you're here, Cliffjumper."_

Cliffjumper was dead; Hoist had examined the body. He heard the mech make a promise – a promise about what? He did not know, nor did he want to. He simply backed away, with a sudden, unexplainable queasiness, and staggered out of the med bay.

"Hoist? You look quite terrible. What is troubling you?"

Grapple's voice startled the medic, and he turned quickly to face his friend.

"Nothing." The bot said quickly, "Absolutely nothing. Just…thinking." He didn't know why, but something inside told him not to tell anyone about what he heard.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Don't worry, I plan on making it creepier. That femme from his dream will be showing up in the next chapter, I think, along with some more scary stuff. Oh, if you have any ideas for this story, I'd love to hear them!**

**And a big thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their alert/favorites lists! You guys rock!**


	5. Chapter 5

Tiny lights flashed in reds, greens, and blues in the dark emptiness of the Autobot's med bay. Low, short beeps pierced the thin air in hushed tones, normally unheard beneath the moaning and screaming patients, the clamor of frustrated medics, and clang of medical supplies; metal scraping metal. At night, however, when the recovering patients, if any, lay in a cloudy sleep and the medics, even the stubborn CMO, had long since crashed onto their recharge berths.

Due to the lack of Decepitcon activity in the past few days, Bumblebee was the only patient. He lay on his new berth in a deep sleep, tiny thoughts and the day's events spilling into his head and dancing around, twirling and contorting in a fantastic dream.

"Bumblebee."

That was not a dream.

Bumblebee shot up from his bed, the foggy mist of sleep quickly vanishing. That voice…

"Bumblebee."

His optics darted to the corner of the room, where she stood among the flames. Her optics, pure white but somehow dark and haunting, stared at him, stared _into_ him. The unprocessed energon ran in dried streaks from her optics down her cheeks like dark teardrops. Her dark lips curled into a haunting smile. She was beautiful.

Beautiful, and deadly.

The fire that danced around her legs began climbing the pallid walls, flames licking the metal and slowly creeping towards him.

"Come here, Bumblebee." She cooed, her striking voice barely a whisper as she extended a hand towards him. "Come to me."

The blaze slinked closer, eating the floors and off-white walls, painting them in fiery red and melting them into a pool of metal. The femme, glowing in inferno, took one step towards him, hand still outstretched.

He screamed.

* * *

Bumblebee's shrieks pierced the air, shattering the placid tranquility of the night. When the CMO had flung open the door and shook him, demanding what was wrong, Bumblebee was already numb to sound. Finally, he quieted, optics scanning the room franticly.

"She's gone," whispered Bumblebee, letting out a small, shaky sigh and relaxing in the medic's grip.

"Who's gone?" Ratchet asked, but had the feeling he didn't actually want to hear the answer.

"That femme," murmured the Bug, "from the corridor; the one who called my name." he looked up with terrified optics at the white Autobot, "she wanted me to come with her."

"With her where?" asked the medic, now gently rocking the trembling minibot in his arms.

"I don't know," Bumblebee replied softly, resting his helm on the surgeon's chassis, "where the fire is, I guess." He gasped, twisting out of the Ratchet's arms, and looked at a corner of the room. "It's gone, too." The Volkswagen whispered, "The fire…it's gone…" The yellow Beetle shook.

Ratchet had collected the minibot in his arms again, not exactly sure of what to do. Hoist, groggy and confused, stumbled into the room and suggested something to help Bumblebee sleep. The Beetle didn't refuse.

* * *

The next morning, Bumblebee seemed to mostly forget the night's terrific events. Just days later, he was humming quietly to himself and reading a datapad that one could compare to a human comic book. The med bay beyond his room was busy, mechs coming in and out, complaining about meager ailments, scientists busily collecting data and supplies for new inventions, and, of course, Ratchet's irritated snarling at anyone who got in his way.

An explosion startled Bumblebee, though he figured he should be used to them by now. Still, he opened his door and peeked out, finding a soot-covered Wheeljack standing nearby.

"What are you working on?" Bumblebee asked, stepping out of his room and leaving his datapad open and forgotten on the berth.

"Oh, just something that could really help us in the next battle. It's too confusing to explain to ya, though. Maybe when it's done, though."

"Oh…" Bumblebee frowned, "Well, do you need help?" The Volkswagen didn't understand mechanics very well, but he could find another way to help. Maybe he could bring him supplies, like nurses do for medics?

"Naw, that's ok, Bumblebee." Replied the engineer, head-fins glowing brilliantly. "I've got it under control." He tried to wipe the ash off his mouth plate, but ended up smearing it with his grime-covered hands, and chuckled.

"Are you sure?"

"What makes you so interested all of a sudden?" asked the inventor, "I didn't know ya liked this kind of stuff."

"I don't…well, not a lot, at least. But there's nothing to do in my room. Nobody's really been visiting me lately, even though they promised they would!" He paused, "You wouldn't happen to know where Hound or Mirage is, would you? Mirage said he would fill me in on the missions I missed…" The minibot dropped his head, gazing at the floor sadly.

Wheeljack, spark broken at the sight of the poor minibot, quickly came up with an explanation, "Well, Hound has been real busy with missions lately. I think he fell behind of paperwork, too. And Mirage…well, you can never really tell with him, right? I'd be surprised if that little rich kid _did_ try to visit somebody! He's so anti-social."

Bumblebee giggled, his chipper mood returning quickly. "You're right! Mirage doesn't like that kind of stuff, huh? He probably wouldn't come without Hound, and if he's busy…well, if you see them tell them they can come whenever they want to, ok?"

"I'll be sure to do that, Bumblebee." With that, the sports car left, and Bumblebee retreated to his room.

Satisfied with this new information, Bumblebee returned to his datapad. He wouldn't blame Hound or Mirage for not coming to see him so soon; he knew what it was like to be too busy with missions and paperwork, and he knew Mirage well enough to know he wasn't the most social of mechs.

In reality, this was hardly true. Not many mechs had seen Hound, but though they hadn't seen him he was far from busy. Distraught over the accusations against Trailbreaker, the Jeep spent most of his time demanding an explanation from Prowl, visiting his best friend in the brig, or moping in his room. Of course, since nobody had seen Hound, seeing Mirage was unheard of. Without the tracker to drag him out, the blue Ligier stayed cooped up in his quarters, doing Primus knows what. Before Trailbreaker was incarcerated, Hound had observed that the spy had been shaken up by the actions of the yellow minibot. Now the last thing either of them wanted to do was see him.

"Well, at least you come to see me, Cliffjumper." Smiled Bumblebee, addressing red minibot had been sitting in the corner. "Cliffjumper?" He received no answer. "_Cliffjumper_?"

Frowning, Bumblebee turned to face his companion. If that minibot had left, so help him he was going to-

The blaze was brilliant, dancing in a beautiful rainbow. It snaked and slithered along the floor and the walls, painting them for a second time in crimson. In the middle of the inferno stood Cliffjumper, a pale, delicate hand rigid over his mouth, the other digging into his arm. Bumblebee stared, unable to move except for his trembling frame, at the figure before him.

And her beautiful, white eyes.

* * *

**Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes in this chapter. I wrote this while trying to put off a project that's due tomorrow...not the best idea! That's why it's a bit shorter, too. **

**I'm purposely not going to describe the femme very much, so you guys can come up with your own image. If you don't understand the unprocessed energon part, it's kind of my version of Transformers blood.**

**Tell me that you think or how I can improve, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

So, after 3 months, I figured it was about time I updated this story. As always, I'm sorry for any grammar/spelling errors.

* * *

Those optics, with their dark whiteness piercing like a hot knife, made the minibot's glossa swell in his mouth, twisted onto itself like a deranged python. No sound escaped his lips, as if the world around him had frozen into silence. But those flames still danced and crackled, and he knew he was not dreaming.

"Poor little minibot," the femme cooed, digging her fingers deeper into the red arm, "Your friend here can't save you. Whatever will you do?" She twisted her hand and Bumblebee could her Cliffjumper scream even though the femme's hand. Still, he remained frozen.

"Wh-who are you?" Bumblebee's voice came out in a strangled whisper, barely audible.

"My dear Bumblebee, haven't they told you yet?" The taller form tilted her head to the side slowly, a playful smile etching onto her lips.

"They…? The minibot whispered, "Who is 'they'? What are you talking about?"

"Poor little minibot," the figure laughed, a light, air sound laced with hateful venom, "Though I can't say I blame them; a weak little thing like you doesn't _deserve_ to know." Her grin spread, revealing sharp dental plating that glistened in the light of the inferno.

"What are you saying…? I don't believe you!" The small mech had tried to sound defiant, but his voice came out small and wavering, like a sparkling's.

"They didn't tell you," the femme sighed, speaking as though she was talking to a poor animal abandoned on the side of the road, "I suppose I can understand the medic or the officers lying, but not even Prime trusted you enough…how sad."

"Prime trusts me." He whispered, almost to himself, and in his spark he didn't believe his own words. "I know he does."

"Oh does he? Perhaps you are as crazy as he says!" the other cackled.

Bumblebee was about to reply, to prove the femme wrong, but he words disintegrated into nothing as he saw her wrapping her form around Cliffjumper. Struggling in her cold grip, Cliffjumper managed to reach his hand out towards his companion, his optics pleading. As Bumblebee was about to grab onto the other's hand, the femme yanked the red minibot back, her face turning towards him and staring with her blinding white optics and her demented grin, before the inferno engulfed them both.

As his friend's scream was abruptly cut off, he heard his own begin.

* * *

Once again, when the blinding terror had numbed enough, Bumblebee found himself in the arms of the medic. The yellow mech stared into the other's optics, which were worried and inquiring.

"Bumblebee…did you see that fem-"

"Bad dream." Bumblebee cut in quickly. He buried his face into the larger mech's chassis, hoping to hide his glare. This mech…he didn't trust him. Cliffjumper had expressed his doubts to him before, and hadn't the femme said he had been lying to him all this time? Cliffjumper never did get back to him about his own investigations…

"A bad dream?" The medic asked, breaking Bee out of his thoughts. He sounded surprised, as if he had been expecting the minibot to claim the femme had visited him again.

"Yeah, bad dream." The minibot murmured, still resting his head against the medic's chest plate, "'bout bats."

"Bats?"

"Bats." The small Autobot confirmed, "Big, black bats. Lots and lots of them."

"Oh," the medic seemed somewhat relieved, yet doubtful. "Would you like something to help you sleep?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright." The medic returned shortly with a concoction in a small energon cube. Bumblebee took it timidly, sipping the contents slowly. Ratchet smiled softly and left the room.

Bumblebee spit out the liquid onto the floor.

* * *

The next morning, after insisting to Ratchet that he had slept well, the minibot sat in the middle of his large berth, contemplating his rescue mission. With a datapad in hand, he was furiously scribbling down ideas.

"There's not much to work with," said the mech to himself, reviewing any facts he could remember, "but she has 'Jumper, and I'm not gonna stop until he's safe again."

A timid knock on the door startled the yellow spy. "You ok in there, 'Bee?" asked Wheeljack's disembodied voice. "Sounds like you're talking to someone…"

"I'm fine!" Bumblebee called back, "Just…reading some datapads. It's really getting good!" He smiled, even though the other couldn't see him.

"Ah…ok, then." replied the engineer, "Holler if you need something."

"Will do!"

The minibot waited until he could no longer heard the inventor's footfalls, before turning back the datapad. He couldn't tell if Wheeljack was friend of foe yet, but he doubted the enthusiastic scientist could really do any harm. Still, it was best to be wary. Silently, Bumblebee reviewed the facts, starting from the beginning:

Trailbreaker had helped the Deceticons plan the attack, which led to Cliffjumper and him being trapped in the cave.

Ratchet had allowed Cliffjumper to leave, while Bumblebee was kept in the medbay, where he was kept under close watch.

Cliffjumper believed that there were more traitors in the Ark than just Trailbreaker, and the femme confirmed that Prime, Ratchet, and several other officers had been lying about something.

"But what?" Bumblebee asked himself, voice barely above a whisper, "What are they hiding, and why is it so important that I don't figure it out?" He closed the datapad, a plan taking shape in his mind. "The important thing right now is to get out of here. And the only way to do that is to act the way the medic want me to." A small giggle escaped his lips. This would be too easy; he was a spy and a master at playing pretend. If the doctors wanted him to get "better", he knew exactly what to do.

* * *

Sorry this chapter was so short...I would have combined it with the next chapter, but then it would have been way too long, and thrown off my story outline. Anyway, I want to thank everyone who left such wonderful reviews, and who pestered me into finishing this chapter! And a special shout-out to Eri-chan, who drew a scene from chapter 2! There's a link on my profile, so go check that pic and the rest of her gallery out!

Comments/Critique welcomed!


	7. Chapter 7

After another 3 months, an update seemed like a good idea. So enjoy~

* * *

Bumblebee had been overjoyed when, after many, many weeks of his acting, Ratchet finally deemed him fit to leave the medbay. Whistling as he headed down the corridor, the minibot found his way to the rec. room. There, he was greeted by many confused, and some slightly nervous, faces.

"Bee?" The saboteur, Jazz, asked incredulously, "You're back, man!"

The minibot laughed, a big smile spreading across his face as his comrade hugged him, "Yeah, finally. For good." He returned Jazz's embrace, then faced the other mechs in the room. "So, what are we doing today?"

If the silence was unsettling, Bumblebee didn't show his discomfort. He simply smiled, waiting patiently for a brave Autobot to speak first.

"We…were going to watch a flick, I think." Suggested Hound, eyeing their choice movie warily.

"That sounds like fun." Replied the VW happily, "Which movie?"

"Something by Alfred Hitchcock," Hound responded, motioning towards the videocassette case, looking like a figurine on the oversized table decorating the rec. room. "Sparkplug suggested it a while ago, and Spike brought it to us a few days ago."

"Spike was here?" Bumblebee asked, surprised. The bug hadn't seen his human companion since he was admitted to the medbay. When the minibot had inquired about him, Ratchet had simply replied that the human hadn't been around.

"Ah, well, he didn't stay long." The tracker replied quickly, looking to the other rec. room occupants who muttered words of agreement while staring at the floor which Bumblebee didn't think could possibly be that interesting.

"Well, ok." Bumblebee smiled, though he doubted their words, "Maybe he'll come visit soon, and I can see him then."

"Yes, I'm sure he'll come back soon." The green Jeep responded, and he doubted his own words. The other Autobots had informed the humans that Bumblebee hadn't been _himself_, and insisted they stay away. The scout watched as the minibot picked up the small video case with his delicate hands and studied the cover.

"_The Lady Vanishes_?" The Volkswagen read aloud, turning the case over in his hand, "'_The film concerns a young Iris Henderson (Margaret Lockwood), heading home on a train after spending the holidays in the Balkans. Iris becomes friends with a kindly old lady, Miss Froy (Dame May Whitty) after Iris gets hit in the head with a flowerpot meant for Miss Froy. On the train, recovering from the blow, Iris falls asleep. When she awakens, Miss Froy has vanished, replaced by someone in Miss Froy's clothing. Finally, Iris fins a young musician, Gilbert (Michael Redgrave), who believes her and the two proceed to search the train for clues to Miss Froy's disappearance._' Sounds neat!"

"Are you sure, lil' buddy?" asked Jazz, plucking the cassette from the smaller mech's hands, "I know you're not so into the whole "thriller" scene-"

"Relax, Jazz," the minibot cut his friend off, smiling sweetly, "I'm up for anything after being locked up for so long." He laughed, and slowly the other mechs joined in.

* * *

The rec. room was crowded with a good portion of the Autobot army, all staring at the projector screen, sprawled out on the floor or on crowded couches, watching the story unfold. Bumblebee scooted closer to his fellow minibot Brawn, happily noting that the other didn't flinch away as the others had.

"I know you think I'm crazy, but I'm not. I'm not!" wailed the heroine, Isis, as she pleaded to the passengers of the train to admit to seeing her friend Miss Froy. The room remains silent, each passenger staring in mute shock at the beautiful woman who claims to have befriended an English lady whom nobody has seen, whom she insisted had written her name, Froy, on the foggy window where no markings showed. The leading lady runs off, passing out shortly after due a previous blow to the head that had been meant for Miss Froy.

The room was filled with a simultaneous gasp as the doctor was revealed to be the mastermind, plotting to kill the main character and her love interest just after they told him their suspicions about a conspiracy on the train. The small bug tensed as the doctor gave a poison to her partner in crime – disguised as a nun – and ordered her to mix it with the hero and heroine's drink. If they were unconscious, how could they ever hope to free Miss Froy?

As the movie finally ended – a happy ending, of course - Bumblebee noticed that the other mechs seemed much more at ease. He said his good-byes and waved as he headed back to his quarters for the night. His room seemed somehow less comforting than he had hoped, and Bumblebee strangely longed for the medbay again. The young bot quickly shook his head, trying to rid himself of the foolish thought. He hadn't worked so hard just to go back into that cursed medbay. Plopping onto his berth with a heavy sigh, the small Cybertronian shut of his optics, allowing his mind to wander freely as he lay in the pleasant silence of his own quarters.

Suddenly, though, he shot up, eyes flickering on to their bright blue color.

"Hello?" He said warily, looking about for the source of the noise, "Hello?"

The noise again. Static-filled and far away, but certainly the sound of a voice. And this voice sounded all too familiar…

Quickly, Bumblebee leapt off the bed, his sensitive audios searching for the source of the noise. The sound, it seemed, was emitting from the floor. Dropping onto both knees, the spy crawled about, moving slowly as to not interfere with any hints as to where the source was.

He paused as he reached his berth, listening closely to the storage space underneath. He yanked out an old container, opening it swiftly and sifting through the contents. At last, he pulled out an old datapad, one he recognized immediately. It was his favorite story, an adventure series that involved characters from the previous Cybertronian War. Cliffjumper had given it to him when they first stationed in the Ark, and Bumblebee has used it so much the screen had begun to lose its brilliance. Now the screen glowed dully, static crackling in short bursts. Frowning, the minibot tapped the side of the pad lightly, then with more force, as the picture became somewhat clearer. Soon, he could make out the red form he knew so well. The audio was weak and static filled, as the bug pressed his faceplate to the screen, trying to catch every broken word.

"Bum…Bee, can't talk…not much time….Deceptico…attack planned…een vorns….watch out…traitor is-" The noise cut off abruptly, the datapad immediately losing its glow.

"Cliffjumper? Cliffjumper!" cried Bumblebee, attempting to retrieve the signal. It was no use; the datapad was dead.

"He was trying to warn me…" the minibot muttered, clutching the datapad to his chestplate, "If he knew about an upcoming attack, that that must mean…" His optics flashed with a sudden jolt of energy, emotion quickly swelling up within him, "that femme is somehow related to the Decepticons."

* * *

Hope you haven't given up on this story; we're almost to the end! I'll really try and update a lot sooner. As always, and critique and suggestions are highly appreciated.

Also, if you haven't seen "The Lady Vanishes" (1938 version), I really recommend it. I've been dying to add it to this fic somehow, because several parts of it remind me of this story. The summary I do not take credit for, as it is off the back of my copy of the film.


	8. Chapter 8

Oh wow…nearly two years since an update? I'm terribly sorry about that! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and asked for an update…it's wonderful to know people really do like this story. So, for you guys…I will finish it!

I apologize for how incredibly short this chapter is...I wanted to upload something, however short, to show I was still working on this story.

* * *

The shriek of the alarm broke Bumblebee from his solemn rumination. The voice of Teletraan I echoed through every hallway of the Ark: "Decepticon attack sited; all able mechs report to Optimus Prime immediately. Repeat: Decepticon attack sited; all able mechs report to Optimus Prime immediately"

In a daze, Bumblebee slowly pulled himself to his feet, letting the datapad drop to the floor with a thud. He turned towards the door, his processor spinning and clouded with his new revelation. Lost in thought, he didn't realized he had followed his comrades through the halls to where Optimus stood, staring gravely at Teletraan I's monitor.

"Autobots," boomed Optimus Prime, turning to face his crew, "The Decepticons have targeted nearby rocket base. I will need all able mechs to accompany me on this mission. Prepare to roll out!"

As the army progressed down the dirt roads of the desert, Brawn pulled up beside his fellow minibot.

"Hey…you okay, buddy? You're driving a little funny." He radioed, "If you don't feel up to it, I'm sure Optimus will understand."

"I'm fine, Brawn," replied Bumblebee, trying to keep his voice chipper, "If Optimus said he needs everyone, he needs everyone. Besides, I feel great. Just not used to driving again, I suppose."

"Ok, if you're sure…"

"I'm positive."

Brawn didn't reply, but he did decelerate a bit and took his position behind the yellow Volkswagen. Bumblebee mentally sighed in relief; he cared for Brawn, but he wasn't the brightest bulb in the store. If he had noticed something was "off", somebody else was sure to. With a rev of his engine, Bumblebee swore to try harder to keep up appearances. After all, if the plan he was working on was to go off without a hitch, he would have to be sure to eliminate all suspicion.


End file.
